Happy, happy birthday, babies!

It makes me feel old to say this, but I think the American Idol contestants are getting weirder every year.

Anyway, we carry on living two different lives: the one at home in Kerkhoven that we've had for three years with Axel, and the one that started two weeks ago in Minneapolis when we added three more little boys to our family.  It's hard to know where is the right place to be.

Last Thursday we returned to the hospital for our first visit since we officially checked out.  On the way there, we bought ourselves a new (to us) vehicle to haul all this testosterone around.  Disclaimer: the car is probably way cooler than we are - a black Escalade.  Let's just say we got a good deal, it's got a few miles on it, and I am lucky to have a husband who can greatly extend the life of a car, as that is his job.

We arrived at the hospital to find Eero and Rex actually wearing little sleepers - they look so grown-up!  Magnus was back under the blue lights that day, so he was still in just a diaper, but still adorable.  And by the way, that kid has got some hair.  See the picture below.  The highlight of the evening was that Axel got to meet his brothers.  The nurses let us sneak him in, but he had to be very quiet because there was a couple in the nursery who were upset that their nieces and nephews couldn't meet their newborn.  That seemed like a non-issue to us, because they should have been able to understand a sibling beats nieces and nephews, but whatever.  There are some interesting people in the NICU.  I don't think I've mentioned the woman who didn't know she was pregnant and gave birth in her bathroom at home (and yes, she has been in contact with the show "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant").  There was also someone whose friend Xavier could now visit because he just got out of jail.

Back to the point, Axel got to see his brothers, based on the fact that he was current on his vaccinations and had never been in daycare.  He peeked through the isolettes in awe at each one, and was visibly concerned about Magnus's blue lights and protective eyewear.  We took him back to our room after a few minutes, where he hid in the closet and started to cry.  When we asked him what the problem was, he said he didn't want to be in this room.  Why not? we asked.  "I want to see my brothers!" he cried.  There were tears streaming down his face, not his occasional tantrum tears, but tears of real sadness.  This of course got my tears flowing, because he was so genuinely sad.  "I won't make them sick!" he sobbed.  It was a hard few minutes, but reassuring to us - at least he likes them.

When Axel is asked about his brothers, he holds up his fingers and says he has three brothers.  When asked their names, he says, "There's Rex, and Mag-uh-nus (he's turned it into a three-syllable word), and. . . what's the other one?"  Eero! we say.  Eero! he repeats. 

Grandma Mary picked up Axel on Friday morning, and then we were able to spend lots of quality time with our three littler boys.  They're able to come out of their isolettes for longer periods of time now, and although holding them is 95% of what we can do for them right now, it's wonderful to be able to do that.  We are also welcome to change their diapers and take their temperatures.  I was encouraged to start "nuzzling", which is practice breastfeeding.  The little guys were into it as much as they could be at this age, but mostly just sleepy, so I'll try that again when we go back this weekend.

When I called Monday night I was told the boys had all graduated to the next level of nursery.  They're not the smallest or the sickest, not that they ever were sick exactly.  But it's progress. And Eero and Rex are no longer in isolettes; they've moved on to cribs!  At that point they were doing well maintaining their own temperature, which they need to keep doing as well as gaining weight, both of which take a lot of calories.  The nurse said they've still got some growing to do before they're allowed to come home, but it's a step in the right direction.

Magnus may be there for awhile longer - he's just so little.  This weekend I held him for the first time without crying.  Something about him just makes me cry . . . I think it's just that he's so small and had to fight so hard inside me to get as big as he did.  They had to change his feeding schedule - instead of getting a large amount of milk every three hours, he gets a small amount every hour, a continuous drip.  His tummy wasn't digesting the larger quantity as well as they'd like him to, but this seems to be going much better.

I am going to close with a few random tidbits.  My wedding ring has made it back onto my previously fat, sausage-like fingers - hooray!  Rex projectile pooped on Jesse when he was changing his diaper, but we shouldn't be surprised. . . he also peed on the doctor as she removed him from my stomach (remember, I said Baby B would be naughty).  We got the bill for my helicopter ride - without insurance, $26,000.  Luckily we have insurance and our final cost is significantly less.  Finally, the one thing I can do regularly for my little boys is hook myself up to a breast pump and bring the milk to the hospital.  Axel came upon this one day, and very plainly told me, "Your bigs are boob."  Of course I am blessed when I am not pregnant or breastfeeding, but he is right.  My bigs are boob.

His brothers have a perfectly respectable amount of hair, but they can't compare to Magnus.

I'll take more pictures this weekend when we go back to see them.  Happy two week birthday, boys!